AN: Hey all, I'm new to fanfic writing (just an expert reader ;) Most likely I won't publish much at all - Outside of academia and reports for work, I tend to write only when I feel like being silly (APOLOGIES TO ALL THOSE DEDICATED TO THE LITERARY WORLD). In this case, I felt a little stressed about Sam/Andy and what the rest of Season 3 may hold. So... I kinda felt like making myself feel a little better by writing this little piece - if it manages to give a smile to anyone else in the process, that's great too!

Please note also that some of this is based on some potential SPOILERY info re S3 finale that has appeared over on Two Worlds Collide. The spoiler is not verified, but...Read ahead at your own risk.

Mostly, though this was inspired by some damn hot photos being tweeted about with Ben Bass wearing some glorious stubble :)

Disclaimer: I own not much at all. I especially do not own Rookie Blue.

It's his stubble that does her in when she comes down the escalator this go-'round.

Like, seriously? Sam always gives face in a way that makes her want to simultaneously jump his bones, and run for the hills. But – this look is more than that.

What this looks like…(aside red-hot-sex-on-a-stick)… is Sam Swareks' last bastion of some secret self. A final frontier to the brick wall barrier he stood behind pre that dumbass bullshit break-up stuff.

Ugh.

Sam obviously made some conscious choices for this appearance at 'Arrivals' though. The look on his face has Andy's mind rejoicing. Security has left the building: the feelings guard is outta town.

That's right, people: Sam/Andy reunion redux has Sam sans sunglasses and signs.

This time around the man that waits for her is the very vision (almost) of open, honest, and raw.

She stares at him, and then stares some more. Munches her bottom lip big time about how good he looks in that stubble- the jeans, tee, and open-mouthed smile obviously happy to be aboard.

Oh. My. God, she thinks. My…um…Sam…is insanely beautiful. (Andy wonders if the stubble is deliberate, or not).

She had spotted him a long way back: the fuzzy heads and tanned tank-top shoulders in front of her seemingly doing their level best to keep the overwhelming swoop in her stomach at bay.

As she gets closer, his smile gets bigger. Hers does too.

Andy realises his hands (those hands) had been wedged in his pockets. He lifts them out now. Scratches at his chest, neck, and face, before he reaches out to her. (For her). Swarek shy moments are endearing, hooooo yeah.

It's here that she can't resist herself. This is one hell of a fierce, clichéd opportunity to play out those douchebag dreams of hers from this past few months.

(They were always waking her, leaving her horny and stupidly wet. Always Sam looking her in the eye, telling her "I love you Andy. I, uh. McNally: I really just love you. I want you ….Fuck, I want Us…so much". She would launch herself at him just as he was attempting all the 'sorries' and 'help me figure this outs' that he probably predicted he had left in the world. She realised immediately: Both of them were launching (in their own way) with everything they had - holding on with everything they've possibly got.

The late night/early morning "sex-me-up AND tell me all your feelings," phone calls to and from Sam across time zones did little to help her out: Andy was kicking butt in the move-your-sorry-ass-career-along temp assignment, but she realised early on - that despite the lingering hurt, she missed him – being with him - a horrible and stupid amount -

He got on a plane for her one time – that was the moment she forgot she had anything to forgive.

Yeah, last time she saw him he was still clean-shaven and uber-buff).

So, she launches again - this time for real. They kiss good and proper before, holy crap, without a word of a lie: Andy breaks into sobs, right here in front of Sam, God, and the world of Toronto's transit lounge.

Andy doesn't know why she's crying, it's not like everything doesn't bode well now – for them, for her, for everything.

(A lot of good words went down on the phone calls - alongside a whole lot of getting one another off).

It's just that it's not like last time she didn't hold high hopes.

She only knows she wants him. She wants them: in every way possible. So fucking badly it hurts.

Andy keeps sobbing.

Sam tugs at her ponytail – gentle but firm. Stares her down with a look that makes her go heavy on him, feels him breathe for her as she drops her head and sobs some more. He lifts her chin and kisses her cheeks.

"Hey," she hiccups.

He straight out laughs in her face then - hits his teasing straps full stride with a double shot: "missed me pretty bad, huh?" and "Pull yourself together", reminding her of food fights and awkwardness all those nights ago.

"Dick," Andy scowls: "Crying at you, not with you". Hmph. She attempts a dismount off him with that - shoving his chest and kicking his calves in a dismal effort to have him release his grasp.

He's having none of it though. Arms absurdly tight around her middle, Sam and Andy find themselves walking to baggage like two people faced front-to-front in some sort of transparent friggin' horse or camel suit.

"Tell me you're not shifting weird shit this time, Andy?" Sam says - evidently watching for oars as they crash headlong into baggage. She glances at that one sideways, gives him the bird before he grabs her hand and smacks her butt.

They stay holding hands. Smiling like the love-sick idiots that anyone else looking on thinks they truly are.

So, yeah. This time around things are actually 'normal'. Well, maybe not the normal that would be normal to the strangers passing by. But the electricity is on and the heating is up, the way things are when they…just are.

The ride home is filled with stretches of singing, silence, and shooting the breeze. Time is on their side for heavier stuff. With a few days off and away from Division 15, they'll spend it at home (either, or both, but definitely together) – dating, making out, and navigating other parts of chapter two: making-up.

Pulling up slowly kerbside of Andy's condo she lifts the arm that was massaging his neck to slowly run her fingers down his face. She pauses around his lips, scrapes her nails lightly down the stubble of his chin.

They sit there. Just staring at one another for the longest of times, her fingers feather-light tracing over the three-day growth.

"This looks… heavenly…" she giggles. "Now, are you gonna let me help you shave?"

Sam swallows, then smiles.